


Obsessions

by RaisonDetre



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam, Codependency, Dean Loves Sam, His Sammy, Hurt Dean, M/M, Possessive Dean, Sam growing up, Top Sam, Weecest, Wincest - Freeform, gay brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisonDetre/pseuds/RaisonDetre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was in love with his brother.<br/>He should feel guilty.<br/>He doesn't and he won't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsessions

**Author's Note:**

> I'm obsessed okay.

_“We’ve all got obsessions,_

_All you ever think about are sick ideas involving me, involving you.”_

Obsessions, Marina and the Diamonds

 

It began when Sammy was fourteen, inches shorter than a regular freshman; others may have never noticed it before- but Dean had. From the corners of their motel beds, he’d watch the young Winchester roll through their bed and stretch out in the mornings just to show his brother his lanky arms that were tough with muscles. 

When the morning sunlight would peak into the room, Sam’s skin would touch the morning ray’s- and Dean would wonder how soft Sam’s skin would be against his lips. Then he’d shake his head of brown locks that fell just beneath his chin- Dean would imagine his hands yanking his soft hair with his calloused hands.

Dean was in love with his little brother.

He should feel guilty. He should ignore the feeling by being entertained by a more than willing girl. He should stop imagining scenarios of Sammy ending up writhing naked beneath him.

But he doesn’t.

And he won’t stop.

Then Sam came home when he was fifteen, his skin sweaty from all of the running he had done when he was at the local rec center playing a basketball game. He was wearing simple basketball shorts, and a shirt that cut off to show off his growing body. He may be short, but Dean knew before he even bothered to ask, that Sam had most defiantly been on the winning team.

His hair was pulled up with a hairband, and his chest was still heaving from the game.

“Dean.” It came off husky, making Dean turn his attention to his brother.

The bastard had the audacity to throw off the sweaty shirt he had on, throwing it to the other side of the room with easy aim to the pile of dirty laundry. Sam smiled, wiping his forehead with his hand, and stretched his arms behind his back.

“Oh God, Sammy.” Dean had whispered, he had watched his little brother running to the other side of the motel to chug a drink of water and carelessly strip down to his boxers that were so damp with sweat it stuck to his thighs and his package.

That day, Dean had shamelessly watched his Sammy laying over the couch and putting his head on Dean’s lap as he laid down to take a nap in his brother’s not-so-safe hold. 

Sam had just turned seventeen when he finally began to gain a bit of height, standing at 5’8” he was steadily catching up to his brother, but Dean had paid more attention to the fact that his brother was slipping into a stage of drinking and partying until two in the morning.

Sam had gone to a party, one that was bound to make Dean’s Sammy a target to any human being. Dean had came with him to the party, trailing behind Sam without him knowing. Through the night, he had watched Sam dance shamelessly on the dance floor with no shirt. Swaying his head back and forth, his hips had been moving with the beat of the music- unbeknownst that Dean was just waiting for someone to dare touch his brother.

Then the little punk had slithered up to his brother, grinding next to him with slurred passion and hungry hands that were trailing all over Sammy. Dean had seen red when he had come out of the shadows, walking to the two boys dancing in the haze of grey smoke. 

They were both touching skin, Sam’s lips threatening to kiss the man’s lips before Dean’s hands were wrapped around his brother’s neck and turning him swiftly over to plant his lips with his own.

It was shocked at first, neither of them knowing exactly what was going on until Sam hands were dragging down to Dean’s chest and beating at his brother to let him go. But Dean hadn’t paid mind to the inflicting punches, just how soft Sam’s lips were on his, and how nice it felt to have Sam trapped in his arms.

But Sam had bit Dean’s lips until crimson bled, had spit in his face, and punched his cheek so hard that Dean was almost sure he had dislocated his jaw. But that hadn’t stopped Dean from smiling like a maniac, and dragging his brother to the other side of the warehouse the party had been held in like a caveman. 

That was when the real fun had begun- when Sam finally gave in to his real feelings and let Dean pin him to the side of the building. His legs had already wrapped around Dean’s torso, and his own lips were fighting for dominance- something Dean never let him have. 

By the end of the night, Dean’s back had long scratches that fit Sam’s finger-tips, and Sam wasn’t walking straight without Dean’s support. The younger Winchester had bruises on his hips, and love bites that prove to stay for two weeks until they faded back into his skin. 

  It wasn’t until Sam was eighteen that Dean had realized his little brother was drifting away from the kisses he’d place on his shoulders. He’d tear his legs apart from underneath Dean, and he would no longer let his hands roam freely over Dean- now it seemed more like a reluctant finger would drape over Dean’s neck and only kiss him quick while they ran through town hunting with their father.

Dean had found the Stanford letter before Sam even got to read it- he thought of burning it. He had the lighter in his hand, flicking the flame before he realized how hurt Sammy would be. He hated it- he didn’t even have to open it to know that Sam had been accepted to Stanford.

Sam came back to Dean holding the letter in his fingers, staring hard at Sam before trapping him into the wall and kissing his neck with his teeth. 

“Were you even gonna tell me, Sammy?” He whispered, inhaling his brother’s scent as Sam fought against him. 

Sam was still shorter than Dean by just two inches- and Dean still had the upper-hand by making his Sammy’s knees weak with ecstasy. Dean had made Sam so weak, his entire body wrecked by the end of it all- it had lasted well into the morning; he hadn’t realized that Dean was begging, and pleading for his little brother to just stay with him- he thought it was all just anger that Dean had thrust into him.

And Sam was gone within a week.

And Dean was left for years, closing himself off to the world and staying in the rooms of motels. He was throwing bottles against the walls, and picking bar-fights while Sam was getting a fancy schooling and a lover that wasn’t him.

It wasn’t until he was twenty two that he had seen Dean again- heard from him almost every week because of the desperate voicemails that he’d leave on his phone until he had disconnected it- and then they hit the road again to find their father. Dean had forgotten about how Sammy had abandoned him, and Sammy had pretended to forget about how guilty he felt in his stomach.

Dean had pinned Sam to the motel that John had left when they were working their first case together again, but now Sam had outgrown Dean, and he was the one to control the kiss. His lanky arms were strong, and his skin was still just as soft as Dean had remembered. His hands weren’t calloused anymore, but they still slid perfectly around Dean’s neck. 

 


End file.
